New Years' Resolution
by Luna Tiger
Summary: GhostHonorshipping, Morty x Falkner // In the death of the old year, Morty finds a tiny spark within the depths of a traditionalist priest and resolves to find a way to it.


  
  
**Disclaimer**: All these people belong to Nintendo-tachi, not me. But then again, that's obvious, ne? 

Honorshipping (Morty/Falkner), Palletshipping (Gary/Ash), Mangashipping (Brock/Sabrina), Systemshipping (Bill/Shingo), Gothshipping (Karen/Clair), Photoshipping (Todd/Misty). Others? Maybe. 

* * *

New Years' Resolution 

The party was going well into the night, those attending exchanged stories and the progress of trainers they came across. The girls danced, laughing. The guys hid, not wanting to be pulled in. Couples necked in the corners, a bit more than a few were smashed even before the main event began, but all in all, it was one hell of a New Year's party. 

The Gym leaders of Kanto and Johto and the associates that made up the Indigo Elite, including Hiro from New Bark Town and Ash from Pallet Town, were throwing the Royals' Snowleague party, something that one of the past Kanto leaders started years and years ago. It grew from just Kanto to the two other leagues in the regional area. Only, every other year, the Orange Crew would show up, but they did last year. 

Normally, the event was held in one of the gyms, but Ash, the good-hearted person that he was (A/N: stop rolling your eyes), had decided this year to hold it at the mansion he was able to acquire with the money that saved up over the years. 

Of course, a good number of those who could make it brought dates and some just brought each other. Take the couple in the corner by the refreshment table for example. I don't think Sabrina of Saffron would really have let Brock of Pewter take another woman if he was seeing her, right? But then again, not all 'in-bred' dates were couples. Morty of Ecruteak brought along his grandmother, the ex-Elite Agatha, Pryce of Mahogany escorted his daughter, the icy Prima Lorelei, and Hiro let his rival (and student, in a way) Kamon join him in socializing. 

And, as friends gathered, was there any doubt trouble would start? 

"Come~on, Sato-kun! Pul~leeeeeeease?!" 

A small vein started to pull out of Ash's forehead; Whitney was definitely persistant and Gary snickering beside him didn't help one bit. "What CD is it again, Whit?" 

The redhead beamed and held it up with pride. "It's N'sync's christmas album!" 

"No! Nononononononono!" 

Gary poked the Pokémon Master's side. "Don't like boy bands, do ya Red?" 

Ash's eyebrow twitched. "Not that one..." 

"Pikachuu!" 

On the ground, Pikachuu was looking up at Goldenrod's Gym leader with a face of excitement, her arms waving wildly for the CD. Satoshi gawfed. "Ah! Pikachuu, no!" 

"Pika!" She made a grab for it, relieving the disc case from Whitney's hands, and made a wild dash for the stereoplayer. 

The Viridian leader snickered, wrapping an arm around Ash's waist. "Never mess with the DJ, Sato-chan." 

".....I noticed." 

Soon, the voices of Justin, Lance, and the rest of the band were singing to their hearts content, while the few people who actually enjoyed this music danced to their hearts content. Pikachuu danced about with Misty's Togetic, Whitney had pulled Bugsy out onto the floor, and god knows what else was out there. But no one really bothered. Midnight was coming. 

Over from the windows, Morty excused himself from Agatha's side and began wandering around again, his recently acquired Misdreavus floating next to him. Her ghostly veil wavered about, carressing his arm softly. It was a real comfort to him. 

_Let see... Who haven't I talked to in awhile?_

Well, the last thing he wanted to do was bother Brock and Sabrina. Psychics, even to a ghost or dark master, were still scary to deal with. So were women in general, which is why he stayed away from Misty and her new boyfriend Todd. 

Nor was it wise to get between, or even near, the two brothers Chuck and Bruno. There was the girl talk between Clair and Karen, as well as Jasmine and Janine. Bill and Shingo, his date, were no where in sight. That got a chuckle out of the blonde man. _I hope Ash has video cameras._

Everyone else was entertaining each other with stories and showing off their prize pokémon; Kamon was very reluctant to join in that, but they wormed a few things out of him. 

_But where's--_ Morty let a smirk pass over his lips. Falkner, Violet City's wing master, was all alone, feeding the small Spearow in his lap. He always wore a kimono and never something more... modern. _Ah, the little traditionalist canary. How you interest me so._ He chuckled quietly to himself. Falkner had a certain charisma, but he denied those around him and kept himself away from anything that didn't have feathers. 

_The boy seriously needs a drink._

* * *

_I don't need to be here._ The green-haired boy frowned and fed Camine another berry. _What do they expect from me? It's not like I converse with any of the leaders.. except Luana and Clair. Although.... Luana talks to everyone, but Clair... Yeah, loners need to stick together._

"Hey, wing master. Buck up, will you? You're the glummest one here." 

Falkner looked up from his newest trainee, nearly flinching at the cool gaze he was getting. Morty was probably one of the more collected leaders, always trying to intimidate you with a small, cocky smile... and he knew what he was doing. Always. That's what intimiated the Zephyr Keeper. "No reason to be happy. Another year, another wave of beginning pokémon trainers in the spring. And guess who get's them first?" 

Morty grinned and rested a fist against his hip. "Don't look so down. Don't you have a few flying types that need some really good experience?" 

"Yeah, but I feel like Elm just dumps them all on me. Sure they have to walk around and get experience, but it's like I'm cheated, that I'm first because I have simple pokémon." 

The blonde nodded. "Electricity bites. But you gotta admit," he said, sitting down beside Falkner, "the Flaaffy are cute." 

"What kind of respectable pokémon is pink?" Falker's nose crinkled. "I can understand Lickitung... but a /pink/ electric type?... I swear to the mystical birds that is screwed up." 

Morty smiled and Falkner raised an eyebrow behind his hair. Trouble was coming. "You need a drink." 

Falkner snorted and began stroking the Spearow like one would a cat; the Spearow didn't mind at all. "No." 

"Don't be such a downer, Wings," he said, casting the green haired boy a long look. "This is the one time of the year that we, 'guardians of the Pokémaster title', get to relax and unwind from all our troubles. We depend on /you/ to grant new trainers access to their full potential and show older trainers from Kanto and elsewhere the reason that the Johto league is very well worth it. You, Falkner. Not Bugsy, or Jasmine, or Pryce or even Clair. You." 

Falkner glared. "I might as well hang a sign on my Gym that states, 'Easy Badge Within! Get 'em While Their Hot!' People take flying types for granted and merely use them for transport once they gain the FLY Hidden Machine. If I were to fight any one of you in a battle with my Dodrio and Pigeot, I'd lose hundred times over. /Except/ against Bugsy. Elemental advantage... Mmm... maybe against Koga.. if I tried." 

Morty smiled and stood up, tugging the kimono-clad boy onto his feet. "Come on, Falk. Drink. Now." 

* * *

Midnight was only minutes away and many were smashed. The younger leaders, such as Whitney, Bugsy, and Janine, had to make do with caffeine rushes from all the soda available to them. But the important thing was that Morty had accomplished what he set out to do.. 

Introducing the concept of alcohol in something called a wine cooler to Falkner wasn't easy, but after a while, the traditionalist of the Johto area had become very tipsy and, to the blonde's satisfaction, very clingy and off balance. Which meant that the Phantom Menace of Johto got the pleasure of enjoying a delicious morsel latched onto his waist. 

Morton Matsuba was on Cloud Nine. 

"Hey, Morty?" 

"Yeah?" 

Falkner blushed and paused, trying to think as rationally as a drunk Gym leader could. "If you were a girl, would I be cute?" 

It was all Morty could do to hold back a laugh. "If I were a-- Falkner, I don't have to be a girl to tell you that. Even the vainest person who seeks perfection in physical form would flock all over you. You're fine." 

".....Seriously?" 

Morty smiled down at the limette and squeezed his shoulders. "Psychomancers never lie. ...Most of the time, anyway." 

Falkner smiled lazily and rested his head on the offered shoulder. "I am never drinking again." 

"What?" Morty feigned hurt. "After all that work I went through to get you to even taste it, you're not going to do it again?? I'm insulted!" 

Falkner gave a slurred laugh and shook his head. "But I'm embarrassing my~self." 

"And being undeniably cute in the process. I think you should stay drunk." 

"But priests aren't allowed to stay drunk," whimpered the wing master as he closed his eyes and buried his face between his arm and the blonde's chest. "And what would Houou or Articuno think if they thought their priest took pleasure from a bottle?" 

Morty shrugged. "That you finally got that twist out of your loincloth and decided to live a little?" 

Falkner burst out laughing and Morty grinned, reaching up a hand to smooth down the emerald green hair. The Violet City leader may have been the leader voted most likely to have a stick up his derrière, but even stiffs can have fun.. Falkner was just one of the few that have been saved. 

Midnight was now just one minute away and the majority of the people present were crowded around the large screen TV, watching the annual dropping of the ball being held in Saffron. _The psychics and channellers there must be getting headaches from all that noise,_ the Fog Keeper mused. _But, at least they're making money for the gym. And Kenji, that master martial arts guy, must be racking in the dough too, holding demonstrations for the tourists and such.. Wow._

His thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on his chest and Morty looked down at the wing master with a keen interest. "Yeeeesss?" 

A rosy tint lit up on those cheeks and Falkner chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Well, you said I was cute and all that flocking stuff, but that's only your word. I believe in ph-- physnic... uh.. touchy kinda proof." 

Morty blinked incredulously. It couldn't be.... He... That... "Are you asking for me to k---" He was cut off by a vigorous nod and a brighter blush. 

The blonde cocked his head. There was no way that Falkner, the guy who couldn't even put on a pair of sweatpants because of tradition, the guy who was straighter than an arrow guided by Robin Hood, could be asking for a /guy/, a psychomancer who goes against tradition no less, to /kiss/ him. 

It was much too good to be true. 

But alas, what was talking? The alcohol or some deep, dark little craving in his heart? He gave a sad smile and let his hand tangle in the obnoxious mono-bang hanging over a brown eye. "You are drunk, Wings. How sure are you that you know what you're saying? Or that you won't regret it?" 

Falkner pouted-- _And what a cute pout he has._-- and tugged on the blue tee's sleeve like an insistant child. "I won't, I promise." 

_"Five!"_

"Well, if you really want to." 

_"Four!"_

"I do." 

_"Three!"_

Morty reached out to grip Falkner's chin with two fingers; the wing master's one visible eye was wide. 

_"Two!"_

Falkner dashed his tongue across his lips as the blonde brushed over them with the touch of a Butterfree's wings. The touch was delicate and light, but the sparks created from it were so tantalizing-- 

_"One!"_

--it was completely understandable that they blacked out the cries of, "Happy New Year!" and various party makers and brought themselves deeper into the kiss. The people around them were oblivious, enjoying their own small celebrations with more liquor, more dancing, and kissing the ones they loved. 

For them, there was only the other. And right then, with Falkner packed into his embrace and a mouth sweetened with fruit on his own, Morty made his resolution. _This year, I will have you, Falkner Hayato. In the morning, when you realize your mistake, you'll run. And I will chase you down, pursue like the fox to the hare, and show you again. By this time next year, I promise. You won't have to be drunk to be like this, in my arms. /You/ are my New Years' resolution._

* * *

It was originally supposed to be apart of a bigger story... but there's also another one in the making which is similar, so I tossed the following to this and decided to work on the other. And a footnote: this story's been on my hardrive for nearly a year, soo... yep. It's whimpy. 


End file.
